Calling Daddy
by Playing-with-fire-again
Summary: You get a text from England that turns into a phone call in the bathroom.


Shit. It had to be _now_ that you got that text from England. You were sitting at a world conference, filling in for France while he was away. You had expected to be doing the best you could for maybe a little bonus, and then after the meeting go home to watch some TV and probably masturbate. You opened up your phone to see,

 _"_ _How is my baby girl?"_

Your breathing shook and you held back a little gasp. That may have looked like nothing to someone outside your relationship, but to you guys it was a secret code. In the bedroom, you were his baby girl and he was your daddy. And your daddy was a good daddy, always taking care of you and satisfying your needs. You recalled his touches of the other night, simply worshipping your body and you panting on the bed as he whispered what a _good_ little girl you've been lately, wearing sexy little clothes for him, how good girls get rewarded, how you looked simply delicious in that tight ass-hugging skirt you wore the other day. He worked you up to the point of you drooling and rutting against his thigh, begging him to touch you _more,_ just a little more.

You felt your nipples harden as you remembered him coming home in his G8 uniform, looking so incredibly handsome, hair tousled, telling you that he had been dreaming about your mouth on his cock all day, the way you could talk him to the hilt and make him sputter.

 _"_ _I miss my daddy!"_

You smirked. You liked to be a pouty little girl sometimes, just because you knew he secretly loved it, seeing that pouty frown go away as he sucked your neck, breathed in your ear, constantly teasing until you felt your body heat rise and breathing go uneven. You couldn't tear your phone away from you and at this point didn't care who saw you start to get aroused. You had always been a horny little thing, and at this point would ditch the meeting if daddy told you he wanted to see you.

 _"_ _Miss my little poppet. I was at home working on G8 report, but I couldn't finish. Do you know why?"_

You knew what was coming and your breath was coming out in shallow takes now. Your nipples hardened even more and you crossed and uncrossed your legs to get some sensation on your clit.

 _"_ _Why couldn't you finish, daddy."_

You excused yourself to the bathroom and waited in the stall for his reply. He took his sweet time to reply back, but when he did it was all worth it. It felt like all the air in your throat got caught as you read his response,

 _"_ _Because poppet,_ _my cock got so hard when I thought about your full lips wrapped around me, taking me in until you're gasping for air; and then swallowing me up again… because you really love daddy's cock don't you, love? I can tell by the way you get flustered when I get hard talking dirty to you, and you feel my length against your leg, or your hand. God, baby girl, I'm so hard right now. I can't help but stroke it when I think about how naughty you are for me, how sweet you taste as I kiss and suck at your neck, the way your voice goes up an octave when I pinch your nipples and roll them in my fingers. How moist you are, how I can feel your panties soaked as you rut against my thigh, begging me to take care of you. But you know I always will, because I'm a proper English daddy who won't let his baby girl go unsatisfied. Tell me poppet, are you wet?"_

"Mmm, it's good," you whimper. One hand goes to mimic the way England ravishes your neck, the other pinches your nipple, and the pleasure is so thick your eyes water. You can imagine him saying all this filth in his proper British accent, his breath hot in your ear, and the thought makes you toss your head back and let out a helpless moan. Desperate you dial his number, hoping no one comes in, but the thought excites you that someone _might._

"Ngh, h-hello?"

You imagine him trying to contain himself, thinking this might be a work call, his hair tousled, laying on the bed, stroking his cock through his G8 uniform. That image makes you whimper, wishing you could be there to help him.

"Oh thank god, I'm so wet listening to you speak, daddy, you made me a mess… I can't control myself, I'm in the bathroom touching myself, but I want your fingers, mouth, cock, mmm, I can't even control my voice …"

"Ohhhhh, p-poppet, I wish I was there to take care of you, but for now put a finger on your clit and then start to rub it inside you, oh, f-fuck, you know what I'd do to you if I was there, starting with pounding you senseless," he groaned. You could hear wet squelching sounds through the phone. He was blabbering now, which means he was close to the edge.

The noises he was making, helpless little groans telling you how much he needed you on your knees right now, made you slip a finger into yourself with ease, feeling how lubed up you were from your juices.

"H-how would you like that poppet, hm? Daddy's cock filling you up, making you a right mess, oh fuck… hitting all those spots that make you scream, until the only sounds out of your mouth are begs and whimpers… like the ones you're making right now…"

"Mmm, daddy, my fingers…"

"What baby girl, are they not big enough? You need my prick inside you, don't you? That's what you need all right, filthy girl, I can hear you touching yourself, I'm so c-close, don't stop baby, I need to hear you cum."

Your eyes watered as you listened to him speak all those filthy things to you, knowing he was close as he always talked more when he was about to cum. Your fingers searched for that spot, wanting to finish because your body was so _hot,_ and you started to ride your fingers harder, felt them hit that spot and strike it dead-on every time. You got that feeling rise up in you, like you needed to pee.

"Uhnn, I can't _daddy!_ Gimme your cock!" You sobbed, the pleasure filling you up to the core.

"Ahhh, shit, I'm cumming, swallow it all!"

The noises he was making turned you on to the point where you became as loud as him.

You heard a strangled gasp and a string of curse words flow from that English mouth, telling you he finished. You still hadn't, though.

You heard heavy breathing on the other line.

"But daddy, finish me!" You whined.

"That I will, poppet, don't you worry. Daddy's holding you up and pounding your sweet little hole against the wall with my G8 uniform still on, just how you like."

"Oh, nnn, Arthur! Fuuuck!"

You were always silent during your orgasms, your mouth always making a little popping noise and then you were finished, but you came as your fingers struck your sweet spot, making you yell out in abandon.

You rode out your orgasm with the help of Arthur, whispering sweet nothings in your ear as you finished.

"Oh, bugger all. I had better finish that paper work, love. I'll plan a nice little date with us and the telly when we get home, sound good?"

"Mmm, you know what I like."

Arthur chuckled.

"All right, cheerio! See you in a couple of hours!"

You laughed, hanging up. But your joy didn't last long. It turns out you'd been gone for 20 minutes and the meeting was on break. Which means… people would have been outside. You **_seriously_** hope no one had heard you. Crossing your fingers and walking out the door, you decided it wouldn't be a bad idea to eat lunch in the car for today…


End file.
